Yep. The current resolution is to pay attention when my brain is screaming at me.

I almost bought a house, to the point where I’m probably going to lose my earnest money.  It is a beautiful house, early 1900’s, wood floors throughout, kitchen in blues and reds with a wonderful refrigerator and stove and a window over the kitchen sink and all the walls downstairs in soft white and upstairs in pale greens and this odd little hall that ends in a window, perfect for a statement plant. It is so beautiful!

In the process, involving much testing and asking for extensions on financing and reports and experts, I was walking around all distracted and having trouble sleeping and going slightly crazy, and not noticing what was running through my head – namely, how the heck are you going to pay for all the repairs this absolutely beautiful house needs? To say nothing about how to arrange furniture in a house that’s all chopped up with (beautiful, huge, tall) windows and oddly placed (omg I love them so much) tall radiators.

So I made the decision to back out. IMMEDIATELY! all the noise in my head and all the weird feeling in my chest Stopped. Silence. Sleep.

So I should pay attention, eh?

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Stolen from Facebook. Amazing, no?

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With lightning bugs for eyes.

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Sorry for the bad scan. I don’t have photo processing stuff for now. It began as a normal line drawing, and then the dots took over. It’s better in real life.

Storm! Wind! Biggish branches in yard! Water over the highway! It’s supposed to snow tonight, but the Maple Tree (minus a couple of branches) loses all its leaves 2 days before the first snow. And that hasn’t happened.

I did a B&W thing on Facebook – twice, actually, but I haven’t finished the second round. But I like this one a lot.

IMG_0561 2iPhone, exposed and processed. I might print this one.

It was my birthday a few days ago, but for some reason my cake didn’t happen. I subtly brought the issue up to Daughter by picking up the box and setting it next to her. I frosted it, and had a piece or three last night, and went to bed.

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I got up this morning, made coffee, had a banana, and then started reading the news and went straight to cake for breakfast, and then realized –

I AM SHEETCAKING!!!!

 

And maybe gauge.

I might be buying a house. It is beautiful and shiny. The owners mentioned the asbestos pipes in the condition report, and now I have to move small mountains to get financing. I am superstitious, and think that things that take huge effort and stress to get are probably going to suck, once I get them. But the kitchen! And the windows! And the sun porch! And the town!

And now, because of this sense of doom, I am looking at other houses in this town which is very scary and maybe I’m focusing too much on the negative, but I’m also realizing what level of apprehension I’m at whenever I’m out of the house. But the houses I’m looking at are in better condition and are cheaper, but nowhere’s near as romantic.

I did a couple of small trips today, and flipped off three drivers. I posted and then deleted things on Facebook that were too intense! At which point I decided I might be cooked. But! I also went into a yarn store to buy bamboo needles for a futzy project (mini-mittens for xmas decorations), and walked out with only one random skein of yarn. Balance is everything.

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Out in Theodore Roosevelt National Park, walking the bank of the Little Missouri, I stepped in deep. I was wearing sandals, and in pulling my foot out I yanked the straps right off my sandal. I think I left that sole there.

Anyway, it’s all kind of like pulling my head out of the darkness that seems to be consuming – me? I don’t know, just all that whirring sound that goes on. I should update my blogroll. I should clean the house. I should give you all something else to think about.

I got a reconditioned iPhone 5. As long as I don’t store it head down, it’s brilliant. I got into a 7-day B&W thing on Zuckerberg’s money-maker, and that got me out taking pictures, for which I am very grateful.

 

 

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Picnic table at Cornucopia. We went swimming in the Lake 10 days ago, the latest in the year I’ve gone swimming. Dune restoration area. There’s paths down to the beach that would probably be overgrown in a year, if people quit using them.

I’m not knitting because of a combination of factors; sore hands, don’t-wanna-do-the-next-thing, don’t think I have enough yarn for the other next thing, hey how about weaving? and last but not least – shouldn’t you be doing housework? However, I’m finding stalling to be boring and irritating at the same time. I will start doing things soon.

I’ve watched Wonder Woman 6 times now. It just gets better and better.

Actual conversation I had with myself today:

me: don’t do that, it’s kinda psycho.

me: yeah, but only kinda psycho.

me: Jeez, Kirsten!

So, I didn’t do it.

Can you tell that I’m in an in-between place? Annoying.

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Drawing lines in paint on paper. Very soothing.

 “How to… tell before October comes which of your colleagues is an “autuphile”, you know, one of those people that, as the first cool wind blows in, announces themselves delighted because summer is too much, too hot – these are people to notice and politely avoid until Christmas, because saying they love autumn is the meteorological equivalent of carrying a Nabokov paperback in their back pocket, a whole identity, at least until it snows, an entire look, complete with new tights and nostalgia, and printed-out recipes for stew.”

I almost got to wear leggings today. I did wear a long-sleeved shirt.

Yesterday evening there was a string of Canada geese, perhaps 200 strong, floating in a line 20 feet off shore, looking like flotsam cast up by the storm the day before. I was staring at this apparition, trying to make sense of it, when a young girl on a young horse rode past along the beach at a quick canter. And then a bit further on, dozens of seagulls wheeling and squawking along a three-block stretch of highway.

Sometimes life is a parade.

So, I’ve been missing. I hope this thing still works.

What have I been doing? Not much, until just a few days ago, when I accidentally bought a house. So who knows what will happen next? But in the meantime, I have this brain, that does things.

So I was at the bakery the other day, because after buying a house food became loosely defined. They have a blackboard on which they post inspirational quotes. This time it was “the purpose of life is to live with purpose.”

Oh no, you don’t get off that easy. “The purpose of life is to live,” said (sang) Spike. Sartre said something like the meaning of life is whatever keeps you from killing yourself. Those people with the diesel pickup trucks that cut in front of electric cars and spew exhaust? They might have another opinion.

(I can see why I disappear. I feel like this post should be heavily footnoted and sourced. Curse you College Education! But then again writing papers was my favorite thing – well, one favorite thing) (Oh look – Wikipedia!)

Continuing with the brain thing, I’m reading about meditation (which counts for something, I think) and I get to this bit –

Every day, millions of people depart this life. One day, you don’t know when, it will be your turn.”

I looked it up. On average, 151,000 people die each day. All you millions got to wait your turn. While you’re waiting, figure out what it’s all about, okay?

And one of her Dobermans, and now I see the shadow of the head of the photographer, who is probably my dad. Old old photo – WWII era, probably. Faded to a tobacco color, scanned and lightened and desaturated. The dark edges were hidden behind a mat, in a frame that also had an old old photo of a man – I think my grandfather. At some point I want to color it. Also, my mother had red curly hair, and great clothes.

I found this in a box of books out in the garage. I have no idea how it got there or why. Augh! my mother, and our relationship, and how she never knew how much I admired her, even if I wasn’t the daughter she wanted. So beautiful, so brilliant, so shouldn’t have been a stay-at-home mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t more supportive.

I also now know that I have to go through all those boxes that have been sitting there since I moved here in 2009 (Cool; less than a decade!). I also found a newspaper from 1942, and a couple of Readers’ Digests from 1937 and 38. And kids’ books. I know what to do with those. Yay for co-workers with babies!

Every time I open this blog up and see “Dotted Yellow Line” I remember how awful those years were, when I started it. Stalked by a brain-damaged alcoholic former fiancé (totalled my car, turned my life into a country-western song) (sounds worse than it was, maybe. Maybe not), Daughter at college and sliding into an abyss with no way to tell me how bad it was (she’s just coming out of that depression now – lots of bullying), working as a janitor to be closer to said Daughter, and driving an hour one way to work, ex-husband telling people (in a small town, pretty much everybody he came in contact with) that Daughter has Asperger’s because I am a lithium addict (??? Yeah, no. Lithium is a salt. You can’t get addicted to salt.), and that I let above-mentioned boyfriend have sex with Daughter. Oh, yeah, and he (ex) killed my dog. It all feels like the sound of those scenes in The Shining that were recorded in a walk-in freezer – my bones hurt and I was all alone.

Man. Hard times. But now I have that photo of clouds over the Lake up by Cornucopia, and I can learn a new association, change that feeling to new road trips and better times.

“I can walk with my feet and hear with my ears.” Is that what River Tam said?I’m better now, actually good, and the sun is shining. So fuck it, and let’s dance.

 

Isn’t it great? The mouth is crazy, man! And the deep wells of the eyes.

Except, no. Not even. It’s supposed to be –

David sedaris photo

David Sedaris. I ran across the photo on the Guardian, and when I went back to look at it again, I noticed this –

Two stories, 18 months apart? Maybe not that far apart. Same photo shoot. Also, his nose is crooked.

Moral of the story? Working from anything is hard. Working is hard.

Also, I blew up my SI joint by stepping into the house. Okay, “blew up” is an exaggeration. I was supposed to be finished with therapy next week. More PT for me! Frustrating, is the word I’m using. I got plants in pots before this happened, so that’s good. It just happened after a week of feeling pretty good, is all. Disappointing is another word.

And in other disappointments, Daughter brought home commercial cake donuts with chocolate frosting and what looked like caramel stripes! but the stripes were actually butterscotch. Sigh. The world is a bed of torment.

In the meantime, I’ll have to settle for blue skies and trees that actually have leaves on them, and potted plants that are growing quickly. And since I can’t do very much, I’ll have another go at Sedaris’s face. Maybe.

 

This whole dickhead for president thing has really harshed my mellow. Whatever. Pain is fleeting, art is eternal, or at least good for a few years.

three queens

Doing things in series. I have these odd-shaped scraps from bowl-making. What to do with them seems obvious now.

first queen  First queen.

wind crown Second queen. Pretty damn formal. Could be a pope. Trying to believe that’s a sail. But I think it’s a pope.

tall queen I don’t know why this image is so soft. I think it’s from shooting slow at a wide-open aperture – failure of depth of field. Anyway, she’s tall and beautiful and full of interesting things. And not done.

And there’s this puppy;

secrets

Secrets, because the box is full of gaps and the lid doesn’t shut tight. I should get more pictures, but it’s freaking cold out again. I’m totally thrilled with the hinge on this, creaky and wobbly and finicky, but to the point. The bits sticking out under the lid keep it from falling in.

Fine. I’ll go find other pictures.

Okay, I won’t. Because technology and improvements. But the story is, I had this finished and sitting by my computer and Katniss knocked it off the table and onto the floor where it got crushed by my rocker. After crying many many bitter tears I annealed it and bent it back into shape, and here it is reborn.

So yeah, I was sidetracked by the bowls because people like them, but they take a lot of work – boring, repetitive work – that is hard on my hands. Now I’m doing more of what I think I should be doing, which is strange representations.

For the weekend? I work Saturday, and then four hours on Monday. I told schedule person I would bring my knitting, and he said sounds good. So I might finish the socks I’ve been working on for 5 months.